Train Uptown: Diverted

She was buxom, plump – altogether about 100 pounds too heavy. She wore faded black leggings and a black fitted t-shirt. Her softness spilled out despite the black spandex trying to hold in her body. She sat with her arms crossed on the uptown train to somewhere. Her blonde frizzy curls were piled sloppily into a lazy bun on the top of her hair. She wore thick-rimmed black and white cat-shaped glasses which minimized her blue eyes. Black flip-flops revealed toes that never saw a pedicure. A simple gold band adorned her left hand. I tried to picture her other half.

Two stops later, like a choreographed dance, a Mexican man enters the subway in the door closest to her. She slides over to make room for him. He is simple but carries a heavier load. He sits down next to her stone-faced. He places a white plastic bag in between his feet on the dirty gray subway floor.

He wears dark over-sized jeans and a black promotional t-shirt. He has a prominent black mole on his chin and a butchered Asian tattoo on his neck. His ring finger has a matching wedding band.

She puts her arms around his neck and starts to tenderly stroke his neck and hair. She says, “Well you better get in a better mood before dance class later today!”

He whispers something to her. She seems to understand and loudly proclaims, “Well you can tell me anything.” He seems somber and looks down. She gingerly links her arm through his, which sits folded loosely on his lap. He continues to say something quietly.

“I can’t even believe you’re saying this right now,” she shouts. “You should just go home, then! I don’t even want to be on the same train with you!”

She grabs the white plastic bag from between his legs and pushes through the crowd to get out of the closing subway door. The door bounces off her as she stumbles onto the platform at 59th Street. Fancy NYC women zoom by her on their way to Bloomingdales. She looks lost and confused as she stares at the subway signs around her searching for salvation.

He continues to stare down, emotionless. He doesn’t look over his shoulder; his eyes gaze nowhere in her direction. He sits lifeless for three more stops and gets off.

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